


Red Over Blue

by paenteom



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F, Jealousy, Obvious Pretext Magic Shenanigans, Pining, Repression, Sweet Sweet Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 23:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9264239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paenteom/pseuds/paenteom
Summary: "True love's kiss," Faith sounded out slowly, and snorted derisively. "Really?""Oh, it's usually a bit of a dramatization," Willow said, clearly trying to sound casual despite how embarrassed she looked. "I'm pretty sure any old kiss will do."Buffy and Faith have to kiss, forsciencemagic. Buffy's not so sure how to feel about that.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [odalisque (fifteenstitches)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fifteenstitches/gifts).



> a super late holiday present for the fabulous lorna [ghostrabbits](http://ghostrabbits.tumblr.com), who has excellent taste in buffy ships.
> 
> i love these two nerds and it gave me major nostalgia to write for them, thank you for giving me the opportunity!

The smell of ginger assaulted Buffy the second she threw open the door to her home, making her gag. She hastily moved her scarf over her mouth but it was too late: she was already coughing. 

She blinked through her tearing eyes and slowly stepped inside, looking for the culprit. The smell steadily got stronger when she moved in the direction of the kitchen, and sure enough Willow was sitting at the kitchen island over the biggest bubbling cauldron Buffy had seen in her entire life. 

"Ugh," she said out loud; the sound was muffled by her scarf but the disdain still came through loud and clear.

"Buffy!" Willow exclaimed, turning around and waving at her excitedly through the smoke permeating the kitchen. "How was your day?"

"Getting worse by the second," Buffy said and eyed the pot. "What _is_ that?"

"It's for me," Faith drawled from somewhere beside her. Buffy spun around; she hadn't even noticed her.

Faith was perched on one of the counters, long legs dangling freely back and forth. She shot Buffy a quick, sharp smile that somehow brought up mental images of sharks in Buffy's mind.

"I've had problems sleeping lately. Willow offered to help me out."

Buffy frowned at the thick, vomit yellow sludge bubbling in the pot. "That doesn't look like any sleeping drought I know."

Faith winked at her. "Didn't say it was."

It took a few seconds for Buffy to catch up to what she meant by that. The second she did she squeaked in alarm.

"Are you seriously using my kitchen to cook supernatural drugs?"

Willow smiled nervously at her from behind the smoke. "Don't worry, Buffy, it's mostly harmless."

"Mostly?!"

"Almost entirely!" Willow hastened to correct herself. "Really, it's safer than alcohol."

"Hangover free, too," Faith said from beside her, amusement coloring her voice.

Buffy put on her best disapproving face. 

"It doesn't smell harmless," she said but the anger was already draining out of her. For some reason the more she inhaled of the thick ginger aroma the more she relaxed. The consequences of being caught manufacturing drugs in her kitchen didn't seem nearly as serious as they did a few seconds ago.

She decided to shelve her complaints for now.

"How long are you going to take?" she asked Willow instead. "I'm starving."

"Almost done!" Willow said gaily, bending over the book to check the ingredient list one last time. "I've got the asphodel extract, the silver dust, cat whiskers, honey for taste..." she mumbled to herself, following the runes with her fingers. 

She stopped abruptly and frowned a little, straightening up.

"Oh no, I forgot about this," she said, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Uh, there's one ingredient missing."

Faith jumped down from the counter and sauntered over to the kitchen isle, bending over the book.

"True love's kiss," she sounded out slowly, and snorted derisively. "Really?"

"Oh, it's usually a bit of a dramatization," Willow said, clearly trying to sound casual despite how embarrassed she looked. "I'm pretty sure any old kiss will do."

"Right," Faith said and slid abruptly into Willow's personal space. "Let's get this over with then." She put her hand on Willow's neck and leaned in.

Willow inhaled sharply and took a step back. "No," she yelped and put her hands between her and Faith like a barrier. 

Faith raised her eyebrows. "Do you need a moment?" she asked smugly. "I don't blame you, I am a lot to take in."

Buffy shifted nervously from foot to foot. She had the sudden urge to be literally anywhere else. "I'm just gonna–" she said and vaguely gestured towards the stairs. 

"No!" Willow said again, a little less squeaky this time. "We need you, I'm sorry. I can't be the one to, uh, participate. The kiss has to be between two uninvolved parties."

Faith stepped back immediately. 

"Why didn't you say so!" she said and turned towards Buffy expectantly. Buffy's face felt suddenly and inexplicably hot. She blamed it on the smoke.

"Can't you ask Tara to help you out?" she whined. It sounded petulant even to her own ears.

"What's the problem, girl scout?" Faith said, leaning against the kitchen isle and crossing her arms. "Are you worried I'll tell everyone what a bad kisser you are?" She grinned, quick and mean. "I promise I'll keep your secret."

Buffy bristled. 

"Am not!" she said, and glowered at Faith.

Faith's smile widened imperceptibly.

"Prove it then," she said. Her head tilted slightly to the side, and Buffy's gaze was drawn to her neck, the hint of collarbone peaking out from under her shirt. She swallowed.

"I will," she said, and didn't move at all.

"Uh, guys," Willow said, and Buffy flinched; she had almost forgotten Willow was still in the room. "I don't wanna rush you but this thing is kind of time sensitive."

Buffy's hands clenched into fists involuntarily. She was sweating lightly; her skin felt too tight to contain her. Faith was still smiling at her, closed mouthed and inscrutable. Buffy stared at her lips and willed her hands to stop trembling. 

"Come on, Buffy," Faith said, voice low, and Buffy watched the way her mouth curled around her name, stomach twisting. 

She took a few uncertain steps towards Faith until the toes of their boots were touching. 

"What do you need us to do?" she asked Willow, who shrugged. 

"Just kiss her," she said, sounding uncharacteristically nonchalant. "I'll take care of the rest."

Faith grinned at Buffy. 

"Yeah," she said, drawing out the vowels until they were slip 'n sliding off her tongue. "Just kiss me, Buffy."

Buffy took a shaky breath and undid her scarf with unsteady fingers before letting it flutter to the floor. Their faces were so close together that their noses were nearly touching and she blinked sharply a few times to bring Faith's slightly fuzzy face back into focus. 

"Right," Buffy said, worrying her lips with her teeth. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." 

Faith wasn't smiling anymore. Her eyes were wide and dark, and Buffy cupped trembling fingers around her neck and tried not to think about the way Faith's hair smelled like patchouli.

She closed her eyes, leaned in and pressed her lips against Faith's.

For a few seconds that's all it was, the soft press of mouth against mouth, Faith's breath fanning over Buffy's face in small, hitching exhales. Then Faith angled her head slightly and opened her mouth, gently touching her tongue to Buffy's lower lip.

Buffy's heart hit her ribcage with a dizzying lurch. She was opening for Faith before she had even consciously decided to, hands tightening around Faith's throat on instinct, not enough to hurt but close enough to feel Faith's warm pulse beat against her fingertips in an irregular rhythm. 

Faith took a shaky breath and then she was stepping closer, the spikes on her leather jacket pressing into Buffy's skin in a way she should definitely mind, but didn't. She distantly registered the way Faith's fingers curled into her shirt, tugging Buffy towards her. Her entire world had narrowed down to those few points of contact: Faith's hair brushing against her neck, her warm skin underneath Buffy's palm, the hot slide of Faith's tongue against hers.

She didn't think it would be like this. There was none of the wild abandon she expected. Instead Faith kissed her slowly, methodically, pulling back occasionally to press small kisses to the corner of Buffy's mouth, her jaw, before diving back in, her mouth hot and intent. She dragged her fingernails lightly over Buffy's neck, making her gasp, before her tongue slipped back into her mouth, building up a rhythm that made Buffy feel dizzy.

It was almost more than she could take and still somehow not enough. Heat pooled low in her stomach and Buffy hummed with sudden irritation, wanting her closer, wanting– 

Buffy curled her fingers into Faith's hair and pulled her forward until they were pressed so tightly against each other that she could feel Faith's heartbeat against her chest. She slid one leg between them and rolled her hips against Faith's, a small, perfect circle, and Faith shuddered against her, moaning into the kiss. 

"Uh, guys," Willow said, and the both of them sprang apart like magnets on opposite poles. 

Buffy tried to get her breathing back under control and nervously pulled her shirt back down; somehow it had started migrating up her stomach during the kiss.

The kiss. Faith and her were kissing. She felt feint.

Willow usually looked a little awkward just existing. Right now, she seemed like she wanted to literally disappear into the floorboards forever. Her face was so red that she looked in genuine danger of passing out and her eyes couldn't quite focus on their faces, flitting between them and eventually landing on a point just above Faith's head.

"The spell's done," she mumbled. "You can stop now."

The cauldron stopped bubbling and the smoke was slowly clearing from the kitchen. Buffy shot a look in Faith's direction and found that she looked the way Buffy felt: breathing heavy, cheeks pink, her hair a mess. Faith's dark lip stick was smeared slightly and Buffy unconsciously brought up a hand to wipe over her mouth; her fingers came away stained dark red. Her stomach fluttered.

"I'll give it to you once it's settled," Willow said, and then all but fled from the room.

Silence settled over the kitchen. Buffy carefully avoided looking at Faith, instead bending over to pick up her discarded scarf from the kitchen floor. 

"Right," she said, carefully neutral. "I hope that worked. And also that it helps with your bed troubles– I mean–" She nearly dropped the scarf in embarrassment. 

"Your sleeping troubles," she finished lamely. 

She chanced a glance at Faith, who looked amused. 

"Thanks, hot stuff," Faith said, sauntering casually past Buffy. She put a hand on Buffy's shoulder on her way out, a touch so fleeting it seemed more like an accidental brush than a deliberate gesture. Her rings were cold and heavy even through the cotton of Buffy's shirt.

Then she was gone.

It took a while for Buffy to get moving again. For a few minutes she just stood there in the middle of the kitchen, clutching her scarf in her hand like a lifeline and trying to make sense of what had just happened. Her lips were still tingling. She absentmindedly licked over her bottom lip, right where Faith had bit her.

This was going to be a problem.

*

Buffy didn't know what she had expected. Some sort of acknowledgement that things had changed maybe, that the dynamic between them had shifted. But then, that was the problem wasn't it? Because it hadn't, not really, not for Faith.

Buffy doubted that Faith ever even thought about that afternoon again after Willow had handed her the finished potion. To her it must have been a means to an end. Buffy should have known better by now than to expect Faith to invest serious emotions in anything that wasn't vengeance or self-pity. 

Still, that didn't make the complete radio silence on Faith's end hurt any less.

"Are you even paying attention?"

Anya's voice snapped Buffy out of her ruminating. She looked up from the sticky table top and forced a smile onto her face.

"Yep! Totally," she said brightly. "I super agree with your opinion on the... thing."

Anya glowered at her, and in the dim light of The Bronze it actually looked kind of scary. Buffy's smile slowly dropped off her face. She really needed to get better at this lying business.

Willow's hand landed on her shoulder. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly. "You've been kind of zoning out all evening."

Buffy suddenly felt overwhelmed; it was all too much: the noise around her, the hundreds of bodies pressed into this small space, the stuffy air, Willow's concern. She shook off her friend's hand and tried to will her face into looking convincing.

"Yeah, I think I just feel a little sick," she lied as she stepped away from the small table they had congregated around. "Maybe I should get some fresh air. See you guys later."

Buffy threaded through the sweaty, dancing people towards the exit. She thought she heard Willow calling after her but she elected to ignore it; she could always blame the volume of the music later. Maybe.

She breathed a relieved sigh the second she stepped outside into the cold night air. Her shirt was uncomfortably sticking to her back. There were no people milling about outside and she was quietly grateful for that, she really just wanted to be alone right now. She watched the moths dance underneath a nearby street light for a while, gaze fixed on the fast little wings helplessly fluttering towards the warm glow.

A moan drifted up towards her from the alleyway next to The Bronze. Buffy immediately snapped into alertness, her fingers finding the stake hidden underneath her jacket. 

"No rest for the wicked," she whispered to herself and slowly inched towards the dark shadow cast by the stooping building. There were shuffling noises coming from the alleyway and Buffy readied her muscles for a fight, her entire body tense.

She peaked around the corner and froze.

The bodies were pressed tightly together, half obscured in the dim moon light. It didn't matter. Buffy saw the rings glinting on the hand of the smaller silhouette, recognized the scuffed leather boots. 

Faith pressed the other woman against the wall and licked a stripe up her neck, humming in delight. Her hands were curled around the woman's shoulders, fingers slipping underneath her shirt.

Buffy gasped out loud before she even realized she had. She tried to stumble backwards but it was already too late. The two of them broke their kiss and turned towards her. Faith's eyes were wide, pupils blown, her mouth a dark red.

"I was just– I thought it was– I'm sorry, I'm gonna go," Buffy stammered, all but fleeing even as the words were still tripping from her mouth. Her stomach was churning with something she couldn't name.

She made it halfway down the street before Faith caught up to her. Faith's fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist and then she was being spun around, Faith's other hand coming up to hold onto Buffy's shoulder.

She looked incredibly pissed off.

"Mind explaining what that was all about?" she demanded, and Buffy tried very hard not to look at the deep red bruise on Faith's neck, just underneath her jaw.

"I thought you were a vampirey demony evil thing," she mumbled awkwardly, and Faith abruptly let go off her arm and stepped back.

"Is that why you made a run for it as soon as you saw me, or is it just my face?" she said, her tone standoffish. 

Buffy lost what little shred of patience she still possessed.

"What the hell is your problem, Faith?" she spit, furious at the way her voice was trembling. 

"My problem," Faith exploded, taking a step towards Buffy so that her angry face was suddenly much too close, "is that you've been acting like an ass all week, and every time someone asks you what's wrong you do that passive aggressive thing where you say it's nothing even when there's clearly something and–"

"Maybe my problems aren't any of your business!" Buffy interrupted. "Why don't you go find your friend, I'm sure she's missing you."

"God, do you even hear yourself?," Faith said, eyes wild with anger. "How judgmental you sound? There's nothing wrong with sex, Buffy, as hard as that might be to understand for your little virgin mind."

Buffy had flinched involuntarily at the word rolling from Faith's lips so effortlessly, and her face burned with shame at proving Faith's point. 

"Just because I'm not grinding against a different stranger every night doesn't make me a virgin," she said, fury roiling through her body in great, hot waves. "Some of us have different hobbies, you know."

Faith actually laughed out loud at that, the sound bitter and harsh in the cold night air.

"Yeah, well, maybe it'd do you some good. All that repression can't be healthy for you."

Buffy clenched her hands into fists. She thought about Faith's fingers sliding underneath the shirt collar, her mouth on the other woman's neck. 

"I know this is going to come as a surprise to you, considering the fact that you've never cared about anyone but yourself in your entire life, but some of us can't afford to do what we want all the time," she said, hating the way her voice shook.

"Some of us have duties to attend to and images to uphold and– and– reputations that can be ruined and I can't just–"

She poked an accusing finger into Faith's chest.

"Maybe I would like to go around doing whatever the hell I feel like! But someone has to replace Giles and it's not like demons are in the habit of taking holidays from being evil so even if I can't stop thinking about what it felt like to kiss you I still have to go out and be all hero-y and–"

She broke off abruptly, her hand flying over her mouth.

"Pretend I didn't say that," she said, her voice muffled. Her brain was sending extremely urgent 'Panic Now, Please' signals, and she stumbled backwards.

Faith didn't look angry anymore. Her eyes softened, mouth curving up into a small smile.

"Really?" she said, and her voice sounded like honey. "You have it that bad for me?"

"Nuh uh, this isn't happening. This is all a bad dream and if I go to sleep I'll wake up from this nightmare" Buffy said and turned to flee this conversation.

Faith's hand on her wrist stopped her. The touch was light, just two fingers resting against her skin, tentative.

"I've been thinking about it, too," she said, voice soft, quiet. "All the time."

Buffy's heart was hammering so loudly she was sure Faith could hear it. She cursed the amount of time she spent learning about Bunker Hill in school when she could have been learning how to navigate situations like these instead: what she was supposed to do about the overwhelming fear and hope warring in her, turning her knees into mush.

Faith's arms curled around her stomach, hugging her from behind. She was warm and firm, and Buffy gratefully leaned into it with a sigh, her own hands coming up to cover Faith's.

"You should let yourself want things, sometimes," Faith said. There was a hint of sadness in her voice. "I want you to want things. From me."

"I do," Buffy said. Her fingers curled around Faith's, trembling. "I want everything from you."

It felt like the words were being torn from her, stumbling out of her mouth into the night air, quiet and terrified. Faith's lips were cool on Buffy's neck, pressing a gentle kiss against the skin just above her shirt collar.

"Good," Faith said. "Come home with me."

So Buffy did.


End file.
